Gaze of the Abyss
by Lynne the Canuck
Summary: Luke ventured into a labyrinth to assail the beast, only to find himself within.


Disclaimer:  
This is a work of original fan fiction based on   
characters and situations created by George Lucas and   
copyrighted to Lucasfilm, Ltd.. The intent of this   
work is for the entertainment of fans of the original   
trilogy of the 'Star Wars' saga, and is not intended   
to garner payment in any form. This work may be   
copied, linked, or re-posted as long as this   
disclaimer accompanies any such action and the author   
is notified in writing. Comments are welcomed, but   
please use civility. Do not respond with viruses,   
profanity, or any other destructive correspondence.  
  
Summary:  
The Sith Lord glanced into the heart of the wounded   
Rebel Commander to torture him with the truth of his   
desire - a truth that held within it an intolerable   
future. Luke had ventured into the labyrinth to   
assail the beast, only to discover that he was,   
himself, the beast.  
  
Time-line: Rebellion, following the events described   
in the movie, 'The Empire Strikes Back' (1980)  
  
Rating: PG  
  
Keywords: Luke, drama, Rebellion  
  
* * *  
  
GAZE of the ABYSS  
(c) 2000, by: Lynne Freels  
lynne@westies.com  
  
(Read more of the author's fan fiction at:   
http://www.westies.com/misc)  
  
  
"Battle not with monsters, lest ye become a monster,   
and if you gaze into the abyss, the abyss gazes also   
into you."   
- Friedrich Nietzsche  
  
  
  
"Ten score years ago, defeat the kingly foe   
A wondrous dream came into being  
Tame the trackless waste, no virgin land left chaste   
All shining eyes, but never seeing   
Beneath the noble birth  
Between the proudest words   
Behind the beauty, crack appear  
Once, with heads held high  
They sang out to the sky  
Why do their shadows bow in fear? ...  
The guns replace the plow, facades are tarnished now   
The principles have been betrayed   
The dream's gone stale, but still, let hope prevail  
History's debt won't be repaid"  
- 'Beneath, Between And Behind', Neil Peart & Alex   
Lifeson   
{Rush, "Fly by Night", 1975}  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
PROLOGUE  
Millennium Falcon, above the gas planet Bespin  
  
  
I am your father.  
  
I am your hate: of self, of circumstance, of things   
that smother. I am your fear: of pain, of   
repetition, of insanity. They know that who I am is   
what you are. They can smell it on you. You reek of   
the truth: a loathsome liability.  
  
I am your father.  
  
I am your weakness, and I will stalk you even as your   
hair bleaches grey, and time carves your skin in   
passing. I will not sleep, I will not erode, and I   
will gorge on your interminable uncertainty.  
  
I am you.  
  
"Ben, why didn't you tell me?"   
  
The beaten warrior flooded his mind with agony,   
abruptly uncoupling the mental link with the monster,   
and he plaited senseless to the floor, even as the   
stars outside the cockpit window elongated into the   
safety of hyperspace.  
  
* * *  
  
CHAPTER ONE: AUTUMN EQUINOX  
Millennium Falcon, 384,000 kilometres from Alliance   
Fleet  
  
  
"I told you, we've got a medical emergency here,"   
Princess Leia never took her eyes off the damp grey   
of Luke Skywalker's face, skin slack with vacuous   
relief. A breath with the plea, 'Aunt Beru', barely   
passed through the parted, ashen lips, and his half-  
lidded eyes glazed over.   
  
Exhausted and still sore from her recent ordeal,   
Leia's impatience was blatantly evident. "Unless the   
clearance code has been changed since the Hoth   
evacuation," she blustered, "you damned well better   
allow passage, now!"  
  
A single shot was fired from Blue Leader's X-Wing   
fighter, whose squadron had halted the Falcon's   
progress. The old freighter twitched from the blast   
that singed her belly. In the pilot's chair, Lando   
lifted an eyebrow at his Wookie co-pilot. "Nice   
welcome," he said sarcastically. "First the Empire   
tries to kill us, now the Rebellion decides to use us   
for laser cannon practice. Maybe we should have   
removed that universal target signal, after all."  
  
"Millenium Falcon," Blue Leader's voice   
interrupted,"you have been cleared to dock under our   
escort. Do not deviate from this course or you will   
be destroyed."  
  
* * *  
  
"How do you feel?"  
  
In an empty surgical preparation room on one of the   
Alliance's three Medical Frigates, Luke opened his   
eyes and tried to remember the name of the man before   
him, the same man who had pulled him into the   
relative safety of the freighter beneath Bespin's   
Cloud City. "Very tired," he admitted. "But my ribs   
are almost healed. Also, this is weird, it feels   
like I still have my right hand. I mean, I have the   
sensation that my palm and fingers are burning. The   
treatments are helping, though."  
  
Lando Calrissian, former self-titled Baron   
Administrator of Cloud City, pulled a chair up to   
Luke's bedside. "No really," he said, his   
deceptively casual manner hid an extraordinary   
perceptiveness. "How do you feel?"  
  
"In a way, I was hoping that you'd be satisfied with   
that half of the answer." Simple no more, the young   
man let his eyes fall to the tourniquet that still   
encased the symbol of his mistake. "It's been a few   
years since I was disciplined for doing something   
stupid."  
  
"I don't see how trying to save your friends deserves   
punishment, let alone what happened to you in Cloud   
City."  
  
"But I didn't save them." Luke said softly. Raising   
his head, he accidentally looked up and into the   
deformed features of his reflection in the polished   
metal of an indescript piece of medical equipment.   
"You know, I never got much praise from my uncle when   
I was growing up. I guess with everyone   
congratulating me on that shot that blew the Death   
Star --"  
  
"YOU fired that shot?" Lando sat forward, reassessing   
the youth. "Maker, that was a one in a million   
chance!"  
  
"Yeah, well listening to comments like that all the   
time made me reckless." A few months ago, such   
praise would have generated an abashed smile. Now,   
Luke's face darkened with a frown. "I lost   
perspective and started believing that I was more   
than I was. In the moment that I stood facing Vader   
before we fought, all I could think of was that I   
could beat him. I'd beat him, and then people would   
continue to like me. I'd beat him, and make him pay   
for what he took from me. I'd beat him because I'm   
young and invincible.   
  
"I won't make those mistakes again," he resolved.  
  
A tall woman, dressed in ankle length, abstemious   
robes, entered the room. Luke had never met the   
Alliance Leader in person before.   
  
She inclined her head, acknowledging Lando.   
"Administrator Calrissian, I am Mon Mothma, one of   
the Alliance Leaders," she said. "I will need to   
speak with you at some point within the next few   
hours, if you would make time before you leave."  
  
"Certainly," he agreed, smoothly. "How about over   
dinner?"   
  
"Administrator -"  
  
"Call me Lando," he encouraged her with a smile. His   
first impression of this Alliance Leader was one that   
forewarned a distinct disadvantage for him if he   
conversed in territory familiar to her.   
  
"As you prefer. Lando, it is my habit to discuss   
business matters without such distractions, but thank   
you for offering. Now, I need to speak to the   
Commander privately."  
  
He inclined his head, still smiling. As a free   
agent, he hoped that he would not have to unduly   
concern himself with her intentions or motivations.   
After all, she was no Darth Vader. Waving a   
farewell to Luke, Lando left with a rustle of his   
klis shirt.   
  
As the partition slid shut, Mon Mothma turned to   
address the youth. "Commander, the Princess   
debriefed the Council on the events that occurred on   
Bespin, and I will speak to Calrissian later about   
this. First, though, I want to confirm Leia's   
statements with yours, if you're well enough."  
  
"I'd rather get this over with now. What do you want   
to know."  
  
Without preamble, Mon Mothma seated herself before   
him. "First of all, will you explain your absence   
between the Hoth Base evacuation and your encounter   
with Darth Vader on Bespin?"  
  
Unaccountably, Luke felt strongly that any revelation   
of Yoda's existence would constitute a betrayal of an   
assumed trust between the teacher and his student   
and, more than that, would put the diminutive Jedi   
Master in mortal jeopardy. He was undecided if this   
belief originated from intuition or from a Force   
enhanced premonition. For all he knew, Yoda had   
placed this trigger in his mind. "I cannot," he   
said, uncertain of the consequences of his refusal.   
"I'm sorry."  
  
"Then explain this to me: you fought against a   
powerful Sith Lord, one who is credited with the   
genocide of the Jedi Order, yet you lived with   
comparatively little damage to show for it. Why?"  
  
How now to vanquish the goulish shadow of his   
father's failure, and his own? "He told me, at the   
moment of my helplessness, that it was he was who was   
responsible for my life." Still, there was an   
irresistible vanity in the idea of a freed   
conscience, released by the foundation of genetic   
inevitability. Ego.  
  
"Explain what you mean by that statement."  
  
"Only that I underestimated his power. He can   
destroy me at his leisure."  
  
Something intangible within the Alliance Leader   
solidified, although Luke could not detect any   
outward change. "Then he does not consider you a   
threat to the Empire?"   
  
'You can destroy the Emperor. He has foreseen this.'   
"Not to him, anyway."  
  
"Commander, you do not help your situation." Her   
tone gained aloofness. "It is in your best interest   
to reveal everything that has happened to you in the   
past several months."  
  
Luke spread his arms in a submissive gesture. "I've   
said all that I can say."  
  
Mon Mothma stood, then. "Here is what I interpret   
from both of the statements I've heard, thus far.   
You will not reveal your whereabouts between Hoth and   
Bespin because you did not make it through the   
Imperial blockade and were taken prisoner. They   
threatened, or brainwashed, or did something to you   
to convert you into an Imperial Agent."  
  
She removed the chair from the bedside, in an act of   
objectification. "Since the Alliance is never in one   
place for too long, the only way you could easily   
infiltrate the Rebellion was through Leia, who was a   
prisoner of the Empire at the time. Vader then   
allowed her to escape, so that she could rescue you   
and return you to the Fleet. You agreed to be beaten   
and mutilated to make your return to us all the more   
convincing."  
  
Luke stared at her, incredulous. "How could you make   
that stuff up? I am not an Imperial Spy!"  
  
"Then what are you?" She countered.  
  
'A loathsome liability.' "Confused. I've got a lot   
to work out, but I'm no threat to the Alliance," he   
answered honestly. "Besides, if I were a spy, I'd   
put a tracer on the Falcon to lead the Imperial Fleet   
here, not just send one guy in to spy for them."  
  
Mon Mothma's expression hardened. "We blasted one off   
the Falcon's keel before she was allowed to dock with   
us. The Empire would hope that we thought that the   
tracer was the only threatening cargo."   
  
She paused at the edge of a decision. "Commander, I   
know that you are very close to Princess Leia and,   
therefore, may have more access to sensitive   
information than others of similar rank. I need your   
honest answer when I ask how much you know of our   
manoeuvrings and future strategies."  
  
Nervous and scared now, Luke stared at her, not   
comprehending her motivations. "Let me rephrase the   
question," she said. "Do you act as her confidant?"   
  
"Yes, I do. She trusts me with sensitive   
information, as you ought to." Suddenly, he realised   
the absolute truth of what he had just stated. Leia   
was his anchor; he knew that now. How could he be   
his father's doppelganger, when her trust in him - in   
his goodness - never faltered? At last, he saw the   
nobility that lay at the quiet centre out of which he   
should always act. It had not mutated at the touch of   
Vader's revelation.  
  
A sigh from the woman beside him brought his   
attention back outward. She glanced over at the 2-1B   
medical droid that rolled to a position next to   
Luke's bed. "The patient requires rest," it said in   
a soothing voice. "I kindly request that your visit   
conclude, presently." Had it been coded for   
emotions, Mon Mothma would have thought it was trying   
to protect its charge.  
  
"Very well," she acknowledged. "Luke, I have to meet   
with the Council at 0400 hours about this situation.   
I can only tell them what you told me. Many will   
interpret your account in the same way I described to   
you. Please reconsider your silence."   
  
* * *  
  
CHAPTER TWO: SPRING EQUINOX  
Headquarters Frigate, Alliance Fleet  
  
"And that eviscerated supplier is relatively close to   
our current position. Our delay in leaving this area   
may have jeapro -"  
  
"What in the hell did you just do?!" A little figure   
in white assailed Mon Mothma's office, like an   
avenging squall.  
  
The members of the interrupted meeting rose to   
intercept the intruder. "No," the Alliance Leader   
checked them. "It's alright. I need to address the   
Princess's concerns. As agreed upon, the Fleet will   
break up within the hour to stager-rendezvous at Fo   
Chasaibh Nan Mamb."  
  
As the door slid shut behind her, Leia closed in on   
the other woman. "Luke was suppose to be discharged   
and let off at the nearest port; so, why did you just   
murder the pilot that destroyed the Death Star? You   
just assassinated Rogue Leader, whose courage and   
tactical manoeuvrings allowed the Alliance to escape   
the Imperials on Hoth! Did you forget that you, and   
billions of other people, owe him your lives?!"  
  
Weary, Mon Mothma closed her eyes for a moment. When   
she opened them again, she seemed imperfect, perhaps   
frailer. "Princess Leia, under normal circumstances,   
I would not debate you. But the time that we live in   
now is far from normal. Our present circumstances   
require extraordinary caution and demands overly much   
of each of us."  
  
She indicated a chair for Leia to sit in, but the   
other remained standing, arms folded in front of her.   
Sighing, Mothma continued, "If we are, indeed, the   
last hope for the restoration of basic freedoms to   
the peoples of this galaxy, who now suffer   
unimaginable atrocities under the current   
totalitarian rule, then we must at times be ruthless   
ourselves. In the very least, we cannot afford to   
take any chances."  
  
Incredulous, Leia stared at her associate, trying to   
discern the base of the platform she now stood on.   
"'Be ruthless ourselves'? Are you actually listening   
to what you're saying?"  
  
"Yes, I am! It sounds as grating to me as it does to   
you, but there is a definitive reality here that must   
be faced, whether we like it or not." Mothma stood   
and walked to the end of the room, staring inward.   
  
After a few moments, she turned around. "Mister   
Skywalker's Imperial collaboration was not disproved,   
and the Alliance could not allow his knowledge of our   
affairs and, more importantly, his demonstrated Force   
abilities to fall into the hands of the Imperials."   
Her voice did not modulate. "The decision was not an   
easy one, as I like him on a personal level, but it   
was a necessary tactical choice that, otherwise,   
might have meant our destruction."  
  
Leia sat down, noting Mothma's forced use of a   
civilian title when speaking of Luke, and folded her   
hands in her lap. "The only way we will win this   
struggle is if we win the hearts and minds of   
individuals. The only way to do that is through   
example. You cannot compartmentalise your mind like   
that, because you won't be able to change what is   
inside you. If you can't do that, then you will not   
be able to change what's around you."  
  
Mon Mothma closed the distance between them to take   
the Princess's rough hands in hers. Leia looked   
uncomfortably down at the entwined fingers, but   
allowed the touch to continue. "That's what I need,   
sometimes; your idealism. I'm afraid that practical   
matters have hardened my own heart, to a certain   
extent. I often wonder how far such thoughts as you   
expunge can be carried into the workings of this   
Rebellion. It began as such, but should we allow   
this wish for a political utopia to dictate our   
actions now, even when we know that these actions   
could mean the utter obliteration of the Alliance?"  
  
The Princess, who had already suffered more than most   
others in her short life, reversed the hold of her   
encased hands as she stood, to grip the older woman's   
shoulders in an act of circumspection. "Ultimately,   
our success will depend on the strength of all   
aspects of our strategy. What I want to make clear   
is that if we choose not to act out of moral   
integrity and personal example, then the misery and   
perversion of the Empire will simply be replaced by   
the misery and perversion of the restored Republic."  
  
Leia held onto Mon Mothma in silence, hoping that her   
words would ferment within the Alliance Leader. "I'm   
sorry, Leia," Mothma said, her gentle voice   
contrasting her words. "But to have allowed Skywalker   
to live would have posed an unacceptable risk to the   
freedom movement. Most of the Council, who endured   
Palpetine's purges and the atrocities committed by   
his Sith puppet, reluctantly agreed that the unusual   
circumstances of Skywalker's Force abilities and his   
prolonged, unaccounted absence, called for swift and   
final action on our part."  
  
Mothma's grip tightened in the only evidence of her   
frustration. "We could not afford the very real   
potential risk of another Sith, one with crippling   
tactical knowledge. Skywalker, himself, said that he   
would not be able to resist Vader."   
  
Dropping her gaze as she dropped her hands, Leia   
formally resigned her commission. "You may have just   
eliminated our last, best hope," she said, and walked   
away.  
  
* * *   
  
Shuttle Calliope Escape Pod, Adrift off Port Ithaka  
  
  
Dazed from the impact caused by the shock waves of   
Calliope's destruction, the escape pod's lone   
passenger nevertheless had enough sense to shut down   
all non-critical power, and seal the structure's main   
debris-caused puncture wounds with aerogel.   
  
Turning his attention next to the life support-  
powered auto distress signal, the Jedi Learner   
visualised its components, then, with a mental tug,   
tore it apart. He hoped that the Alliance did not   
pick up its signals for help, or the last thing he'd   
see would be cannon fire from his own squadron.   
  
The images and feelings he had purloined from the   
Deck Captain turned out to be true. Had he not acted   
on what he absorbed and stayed in the shuttle, he   
would be dead now. The Alliance had betrayed him,   
just as Ben had.   
  
Luke had accounted for everything his panicked mind   
could remember from General Dodonna's survival   
courses. Now, as he finished patching the smaller   
leaks in the hull, fear saw an opening in his defence   
and rapidly rose to grapple with him.   
  
Lonely and angry, he looked critically upon himself,   
wondering what that futile wonderer did and why.   
Thinking himself detached, madness approached as   
these severed selves conversed in the void.  
  
What did Ben and Yoda want from him? What fate   
awaited him? What if his destiny was nothing more   
than to die there, in a tiny coffin that once offered   
him hope? What was the purpose of that conclusion?   
What if there was no destiny, apart from whatever   
fantasy he constructed?  
  
"No," he said.   
  
Why 'no'?  
  
"Because I don't want to hear anymore."  
  
Why?  
  
"If I'm going to die, I don't want my last moments to   
consist of regrets."  
  
What do you regret?  
  
"Stop it! Everything. I don't know, just leave me   
alone!"  
  
You regret that you wasted your time daydreaming,   
when you should have been preparing.  
  
"My uncle needed me, he said so himself! He said   
that he needed my help until the next harvest. I   
stayed because I had a duty, a responsibility, to   
him."  
  
Did you? Look closer. You had a much greater duty,   
but you allowed your fear to stop you from performing   
your responsibilities.  
  
"I wasn't afraid! I begged my uncle to let me apply   
to the Academy."  
  
To which you knew he would forbid it, then argue   
against it. Besides, you could have left the farm   
whenever you wanted, but the pain, the destruction,   
the death that you knew would partake in your life,   
scared you into inaction.  
  
"And who wouldn't be afraid of such things? Who   
would want it?"  
  
You had a duty, and your procrastination cost the   
lives of millions.  
  
"One person cannot change the outcome of the war."  
  
Really? Do you truly believe that? Be honest, now.   
It was not death that scared you; it was the   
possibility that you'd enjoy the killing.  
  
"I don't enjoy killing others! I do it to help   
restore freedom to the oppressed."   
  
Yes, and you still clutch frantically to that ideal;   
but, in the middle of battle, how do you feel when   
you destroy a target? That's a good, sanitary name   
for your victim, isn't it? You never see the pain   
and death you inflict. The blip on your targeting   
computer simply disappears.  
  
"If ... if I don't neutralise the enemy, I could - my   
squadron and my friends - we all could be killed."  
  
You're saying that you ... what was the verb you   
used? "Neutralise"? - a very nice distancing term -   
you only kill in defence? You never yelled with   
delight after one of those targeted blips   
disappeared?   
  
Aren't you being hypocritical?  
  
"I was ... I was as cruel as the enemy I fought."  
  
Staring vacantly at visible tracks in the invisible   
void, Luke tried to calm himself by meditating on a   
self-portrait, gliding on the waves of billions of   
life energies through space and time. Meditating, he   
considered the pasts contained within the starlight   
that now reached him - stars that had, long ago,   
exhausted their fuel and died - the civilisations   
that orbited them, having either moved on or perished   
where they once flourished.  
  
Luke placed a hand against the transparisteel to hide   
his distorted reflection. Freedom from condemnation   
was contained within the form of the icy touch of   
infinity beyond the confines of the pod and the one   
within it.  
  
That was the nature of all within the universe.   
Relativity, in relation to solar systems and other   
large masses, and quantum phenomena that he could   
only gain empirical awareness of through a very   
specific form of meditation. In between those two   
extremes were beings like him, whose struggles were   
comparatively either too quick or too slow but were,   
inevitably perhaps, inconsequential.  
  
What had to concern him, therefore, was exactly what   
Master Yoda had emphasised: the present, and how one   
contributes to its quality. For Jedi Learner, Luke   
Skywalker, that meant hope - not only for his own   
survival, but also for the expansion of tolerance and   
freedoms, the maintenance of order and justice   
against violations, and the ease of providing basic   
needs for survival to all sentients.   
  
He could not provide this hope without extensive   
assistance and education. Despite their paranoid   
attack on him, he still needed what the Alliance   
could offer, as they needed him in kind.  
  
The Sith, and the legacy that slithered behind them,   
remained refreshed in the minds of the Alliance   
Leadership due to Vader's very presence. It had been   
so long since Jedi Knights existed that, for many, a   
Force-Conductor was a frightening thing. It was no   
wonder, then, that they allowed such emotion to   
justify their attempt on his life.  
  
'A loathsome liability.' He'd been reviewing his   
conversation with Mon Mothma ever since it occurred.   
He was now so waterlogged with emotion, that he felt   
numb. That numbness, however, allowed him clarity of   
perception that he'd never experienced before. A   
liability ... whatever happened to his father could   
happen to him, but it did not have to be that way.   
  
In his meditation, he considered the cosmos as its   
own kind of desert. A desert's heat would be very   
welcome now, he thought dryly. Shivering, he knew   
that the power couplings were spasming in the   
equivalent of death throws.  
  
Peering at the depleting level of the oxygen supply   
indicator, he made himself as comfortable as he could   
in the cramped space. "Ben," he called to the   
martyred Jedi Knight; but, as on Cloud City, he was   
answered with silence. A grim smile briefly   
stretched his lips as he comforted himself with the   
notion that perhaps he would be making the final   
transition on his own terms.   
  
"Leia," he amended, and concentrated on visualising   
his co-ordinates displayed on the navigational map.   
If she could hear his call as she had before, if   
there was some way she could contact the emergency   
unit at Ithaka without arousing Alliance suspicion   
... if ... if.  
  
Alone in the darkness, uncertain of his fate, he did   
the last thing he could think of to save himself.   
Closing his eyes, he drew on the Force to slow his   
breathing and heart rate, and rapidly sank into a   
state of suspended animation.   
  
  
SUSPENSION  
  
His mind and body swiftly focused as the youth   
summoned the Force. Feeling its power surge within   
him, Luke raised his lightsaber and, with one   
powerful stroke, severed the Dark Lord's head from   
his body.  
  
As Luke watched in shocked disbelief, the broken   
helmet rolled to a stop at his feet. It flared   
briefly, then fell aside to reveal, not the unknown,   
imagined face of Darth Vader, but Luke's own face,   
looking up at him, immobilising him in mind and body.   
Even now, as he lay confined within the pod, he   
remained this immobilised prisoner of his own   
occluded control.  
  
His needs for aversion, to be liked, and for non-  
existence, were the dragonesque inner ego that   
continued to command dominion over him through fear.   
If he could face them and stop avoiding them, maybe   
then the freedom of peace would not be so   
unattainable.  
  
If he were to disentangle these knots he had allowed   
to form in his mind, he would need a great deal of   
time apart from anything familiar to him. This is   
what his teachers, Obi-wan and Yoda, had done. Now   
he saw the necessity of it, beyond political   
detection.  
  
The silence and peace of seclusion, he believed would   
allow for the development of awareness, calmness, and   
insightful wisdom that would allow him to see things   
as they really are. And, perhaps, allow him to quiet   
his self-hatred. Only then, could he return to his   
teacher to truly hear the life in his words.  
  
* * *  
  
THREE YEARS LATER  
  
  
"My mistake was not using cunning and self-control."   
Fingers splayed and pressed flat against the   
transparisteel of a port window, Luke felt the brutal   
cold touch of the perfect reflection of his hand   
spread, in kind, against his own.  
  
"I felt useless when I first saw the visions of you   
and Han suffering on Bespin," he explained. "I felt   
useless when I woke up on the Medical Frigate, when   
the consequences of what I'd done and ... and the   
truth ... finally impacted. I emotionally exploded:   
I could not remain patient, in the hope that the   
Force would guide me, like a lure; I could not remain   
anxiously inoffensive, unable to act."   
  
"You're not alone in that sentiment. After I thought   
you'd been assassinated, I resigned, knowing full   
well that I, too, might be conveniently erased," Leia   
said quietly. "I believe that I was spared because   
the Leadership is paranoid that, given my former rank   
and position within the Alliance, I might have   
arranged to have certain tactical and personal   
information disbursed to the network in the event of   
my death.  
  
"In any case, what's more surprising is that my   
recent request for reinstatement was accepted." She   
paused, then saluted sloppily. "Lieutenant Organa,   
at your service."  
  
Luke turned slowly to face the Princess. A high   
collar framed his angular features, the black clothes   
blurring all but the blue eyes that glowed with an   
inner light. He was a dark stain against the   
bleached white of the room in which he stood.  
  
His voice startled her. "Why did you return to the   
Alliance then, if you feel this way?"  
  
"Because I can only change it from within."  
  
He stood silently for a moment, studying her. "'From   
within'. Thank you, that is the key. Leia, our   
choices of action were simply naïve, being neither   
good nor evil. These concepts don't exist apart from   
each other. There is no duality."  
  
"On the contrary," Leia said, "while it's true that   
we know of what is good in part by contrasting it   
with what we consider evil, these concepts   
theoretically can exist independently of each other.   
Further, I think that such polarised concepts can   
manifest themselves independently within the same   
individual, given a specific set of circumstances."  
  
"Such as," Luke prompted.  
  
"For simplicity's sake, let's take my reaction to   
Vader as an example."  
  
For the first time since she saw him dangling,   
perilously from Cloud City's belly, he smiled.  
  
"What I'm trying to say is that my reaction to that   
monster never wavers. I'd kill him, if I had the   
means." She righted herself, "Is that evil? Maybe,   
because my motivation is only to satisfy my revenge   
for Alderaan and everything else I loved that was   
taken from me. It's the same level of thought that   
he has, but I don't let it control me.   
  
"It is because I don't saturate myself with this   
hatred that I am able to carry out deeds of   
philanthropy - deeds that, at their centre, are not   
born out of a need to prove that I still have this   
capability. Nevertheless, I can't alter the   
intensity of what I feel at the very mention of   
Vader's name."  
  
Luke studied her in silence for a few moments,   
maintaining eye contact with some effort. "Or   
won't," and held his left hand up to her, in a   
gesture of cessation. "I think I understand what   
things lurk in such depths. When they are brought to   
the surface," he paused and turned his head slightly   
to the left, consequently shifting his line of sight   
from her eyes. It was as if he feared to corrupt her   
with nothing more complex than visual contact. "There   
is a lot that's unpleasant to see."  
  
"It's the same for all of us, Luke. I'd be much   
happier and, admitedly less hypocritical, if I didn't   
cling to this anger." She inhaled loudly through her   
nose, then released the calming breath in a quick   
snort. "But I know I'd be less effective without   
it."  
  
"Effective," he murmured and, turning back to the   
window, finally addressed his reflection twin   
hovering over the abyss, who regarded him in turn.   
"What I've been taught is fatally over simplified.   
The Jedi are dead, and I must now take responsibility   
for setting my own moral standards. It is what I may   
do, and not what I may not do, that will form the   
basis of this New Order."  
  
He cocked his head in profile. "The Jedi Knights   
were the most visible symbols of the Old Republic.   
The public defeat of such a powerful and infamous   
figure as Jabba - by no less than this resurrected   
symbol of the O.R. - will force the Rebel Command to   
play along, if they want to prove the seriousness of   
their New Republic 'cause' to anyone."  
  
Turning in full towards her, the cold steel of his   
gaze seemed to penetrate the distance between the two   
outsiders. "The time for action is approaching.   
You'll know, soon, when I need you to implement your   
part in the plan."   
  
The communications screen darkened. Leia disengaged   
the splicer decoder from the public station she sat   
at, hoping that this covert conversation was not   
detected or traceable, and returned it to its hiding   
place in the emptied base of the hologram of her   
father, Senator Bail Organa.  
  
"Dad, I hope you approve," she said to the inoperable   
object. "I have faith in Luke. Call it intuition."  
  
* * *  
  
EPILOGUE  
Tatooine, Obi-wan Kenobi's Abandoned Dwelling   
  
  
When the night still cloaked half of the globe in a   
redeeming chill, a light was extinguished from within   
a small adobe hut on the shores of the Wastes. An   
abstemious garbed apparition materialised at the   
threshold.  
  
Looking out at the blackened span of dust, Luke   
briefly longed for the shelter of ignorance. There   
was so much that he did not want to know or to   
remember, now.   
  
The lessons of a harsh life had permanently changed   
him. He was more thoughtful, more cautious, but he   
could also not shake the darkness that obscured his   
perception. It would never fall from him, but   
perhaps all that defined 'good' was to never deviate   
from a self-defined ethical foundation.  
  
He wondered what kind of a man he would be now, had   
he refused to answer the call of fate. A sigh   
banished these thoughts, and he turned to face the   
first of the twin suns as it broke the horizon.  
  
Between the shadows and the wind, the blade of a Jedi   
Knight was raised once more.  
  
* * *  
  
RETURN of the JEDI  
  
Hovering over the burning sand, like a pool of black   
water, a shadow moved toward its destiny. The gate   
to Jabba's Palace opened with a gesture, and the wind   
from the risen sun howled inside.  



End file.
